


Life's Melody

by lyonessheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Community: hd_erised, Families of Choice, Friends to Lovers, H/D Erised 2018, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Illnesses, Kid Fic, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Punching, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyonessheart/pseuds/lyonessheart
Summary: Draco doesn't know what to do with his life after the war. But he has magic to guide him, and a melody that keeps playing. Sooner or later he will find that one doesn't need much to find happiness. Family, love and an old artefact. Sometimes that is all.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you dear mods for your patience and the support when my giftee had to drop out. I am glad I could finish this story for the community. I have a wonderful beta who has put her life on hold to keep her promise to me and I am very grateful to her.

Four months have passed since Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord.

Sixteen Weeks that have seen Draco Malfoy confined to a holding cell deep within the Ministry. Of course he knows that this is the normal procedure, they have rounded all of the Death Eaters up, and only those who are considered lighter offenders have been offered the courtesy of being within the Ministry. Draco's father is back in Azkaban and Draco doesn't know if he will ever see him again. He doesn't have the energy to think about his feelings on that. He tries to remain sane, by following the course of the sun within the magical cell window.

Summer passes and he sits in the cell. Nobody visits, nobody probably cares. He only receives his meals and even then the guard doesn't talk to him apart from a gruff greeting. The Wizard who's been appointed for his defense has taken one look at him and snorted, as if everything has already been decided. 

Draco keeps thinking back to the moment when he got arrested.

The Aurors came for them while they sat in the Great Hall and looked at the dead. Draco felt nauseated, and raised no fuss when they took him in the middle. He only regretted that his mother was distressed, and that he could do nothing to alleviate her pain. He squeezed her hand and walked with them with his head held high. With all the catastrophic decisions he had made in the course of his life he just wanted her to remember him with his head held high.

But now waiting for the trial that would condemn him to Merlin knows how long of Azkaban he wonders if the appearance of dignity in the face of a long separation was the best decision.

He wishes he would have said goodbye properly and hugged her, pride and dignity be damned. The truth is that he misses his mother and wishes he could talk to her. Does she think of him as often as he does of her? He has never been that long without contact, and he feels as if he is slowly going crazy. 

But just as he is sure that he is reaching the breaking point and will go insane if he spends one more day alone, the door to his cell opens. Kingsley Shacklebolt steps into the cell.

"Good day to you Mr. Malfoy." Draco shudders at the address, that to him belongs to his father, he has never felt comfortable with it. Kingsley politely ignores it. "I just wanted to inform you that your trial will take place tomorrow. I apologize for the delay, but we had quite a few trials to prepare. I trust you have been treated well?"

What is he to say? Of course he has not been treated politely, the wards have mostly ignored him entirely. Again he could have been treated far worse. The ignorance he receives may be more than he deserves too. So he will not complain, it could have been worse and so he only nods and withdraws into himself. He has learned to be content with his own thoughts for company.

"I am glad to see that. The Aurors will bring you up tomorrow at ten am." Kingsley nods at him and moves as if to turn away. Draco hears himself blurt out at question, before he can stop himself.

"Why are you telling me this? I mean, why not just bring me into the courtroom?"

"Well, Harry asked me how you were holding up." The casual mention of Potter's name hits him like a Bludger. He flinches a little.

"Why would he care?" The words are out before he can control himself.

"Well I can't look into his head, but I reckon you must have done something right."

Kingsley looks at him with something akin to kindness in his eyes and Draco feels his world shift again. Well maybe Potter will say something in his favour and he can hope for a shorter stint in Azkaban. He probably should respond to the inquiry.

"I am as well as can be expected. Can you tell him that?"

He is certain that anything more would not be believable, given the sort of history he shares with Potter. The Minister nods and leaves the cell with a nod and a smile.

Draco is left alone once more with his thoughts and nightmares. But at least for tonight the nightmares are kept at bay by the one sentence that keeps playing in his mind.

"You must have done something right..." 

He just wishes he could remember what Potter might have taken as a right decision.

* * *

The next morning arrives faster than he anticipated, but at least after today the uncertainty will be over.

He is led into the courtroom, and pushed on the lonely chair which puts him in chains immediately. The first stirrings of panic encroach him, but he focuses on breathing. He has no idea what the actual charges are and how he can respond and defend himself, maybe there is no defence for him.

He looks through the ranks of the spectators and sees Potter on the side, he nods at him and Draco feels calm suddenly. He will own up to his shortcomings, and if he has to go to Azkaban to atone for his sins, he will because if Potter thinks he has done something right in all of the horrific mistakes that he has made within the last year then there is hope for atonement, and he will take it up with dignity.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy, you stand on trial for several crimes today!" the Wizard sitting on the throne in the middle of the hall bangs his gavel on the podest.

"I am aware, sir!" He looks up, and encounters only contempt.

"You will respect this court!" The man has taken on an unhealthy hue of puce. So he is one of those who have already made up their mind that he is unable to feel remorse and take anything that comes out of his mouth as disrespect. So he does the only thing he can and nods.

"You are accused of three individual crimes. I will read each one out and then you will state if you see yourself guilty or not. Understood?"

Again he only nods.

"The first crime that you are accused of is the wilful help for the Death Eaters to enter Hogwarts and the knowing endangerment of your fellow students."

Draco closes his eyes, how can he say that he wilfully helped, when he only tried to protect his mother, when he had had no idea what kind of creatures would have been brought.

"How do you plead?"

"Not guilty." There is only one answer that rings true in his mind.

The gasps ring through the courtroom, but Draco focuses only on the Wizard reading out the crimes, he looks incredulously at him but continues to read out the crimes at first.

"The second crime is the complicity in the murder of Albus Dumbledore."

Nausea threatens to overwhelm him as he replays the scene on the tower inside of his head. He sees the old man's outstretched hand, feels his own trembling and hears the dreadful words spilling from Severus' mouth. Again he states the answer that he knows to be true, even if he condemns himself

"Guilty."

Silence reigns in the courtroom, as if the public cannot believe what they just heard. Haven't they understood that he will pay willingly for his sins? 

"The last crime is the active and willing participation in torture under the command of Voldemort in at least two cases."

Draco smiles bitterly. They all have no idea what it was like to live with that monster inside of his home. There can be only one answer to that accusation and even though he knows he will be met with disbelief.

"Not guilty."

Before a tumult can break out, a voice rings through the courtroom.

"I second his statement! He is not even guilty of the crime he himself feels guilty off!" With that statement Potter stands up and walks towards the chair that has Draco bound in chains. He looks at Draco and there is a gentleness in his eyes that Draco can't understand. But he is beyond caring, what does Potter mean that he is not guilty? The question must be clear in his eyes because Potter turns towards the Wizengamot and begins to talk.

He tells the court about his connection to Voldemort, about his insight to Draco's personal nightmares and he talks about the fact that the killing of Albus Dumbledore was not a murder, but a mercy killing, that Severus Snape had been sworn to fulfil his promise by Dumbledore himself.

So to judge Draco for complicity in a murder that wasn't one, would not be just. And then he continues to talk about Draco's home life, about the love that he has witnessed from Narcissa Malfoy for his school rival and the desperate measures Draco has taken to make sure his mother got through the war unscathed. And he talks about the fact that Draco still protected him to the best of his abilities by refusing to identify him and giving him a chance to get away.

Draco doesn't know how long he listens, but he feels raw when Potter comes to the end.

"Draco Malfoy is not guilty of the crimes you accuse him of!" he finishes.

"But he bears the Dark Mark!" someone yells out and Draco smiles for the first time freely. He indicates for Potter to roll up his left sleeve and there they see only one thing. Potter flinches back.

"What..."

"Greyback," is all that he says, and no other words are needed to explain the three parallel scars that adorn his arm, which still look raw and inflamed even though they are months old. They remind him constantly that he was on the wrong side of the war. And that the man who was the leader was insane enough to mete out pain and disfigurement as punishment for his servants.

Draco would never have born the Dark Mark, he wasn't worthy of it, and Greyback enjoyed causing him pain and humiliating his father by causing his son agony.

The fever that had raged through his body following the injury had made everything else pale in comparison.

Potter turns towards them with blazing eyes. "Do you still believe that he willingly supported this? When he knew that his mother would endure far worse than these injuries should he not comply?"

He sees their faces and for the first time he believes that Potter is right. That there might be less to atone for than he believed in the beginning.

"Order!" The Chief Warlock bangs the gavel again.

"All in favour of declaring Draco Malfoy guilty raise their hands now!" Draco watches as only a handful of people raise their hands, he recognises old enemies of his father and sighs. Of course they would take the chance to get rid of him, but there are only a minority.

The Chief Warlock is not pleased but he can do nothing but proceed.

"All in favour of declaring Draco Malfoy not guilty raise their hands!" All remaining hands rise and Draco feels a big lump settling in his throat. He swallows desperately, but no words come.

"Draco Malfoy you are hereby declared innocent of the crimes you were accused of. You are free to leave the Ministry and return to Malfoy Manor."

The chains fall away and he is free to stand. Turning towards Potter he tries to get words out but there are none.

Potter just pulls a wand from his pocket and turns it over towards him handle first. "This is yours. Thank you for letting me use it." 

Draco reaches out and the symbolism is not lost on him. "Thank you for doing good with it." No other words are needed.

Potter nods and turns away from him. Draco can only watch as he leaves the courtroom.

He probably won't see him again.

The certainty of it causes his heart to clench.

* * *

It had been late spring when he had left Malfoy Manor, and now fall reigned already. Even though it is only September, rain falls continuously and paints the land in shades of grey. Draco doesn't feel comfortable when he walks through the halls of his childhood. He has been declared not guilty but he feels far from innocent. Too much that he has seen. He feels restless, but doesn't know what to do with himself. Hogwarts is still closed, too extensive has the damage been. The castle will not inhabit students this year, and so Draco is stuck with only his mother for now.

He is fiercely grateful for her presence though. But no one of his own age is around.

Blaise has left England to travel with his mother and Theo has been confined in the Manor of his family. Somehow the Malfoy name even though he has been exonerated doesn't carry much prestige with it any longer. 

That suits him just fine, as there is too much to do in order to clean the Manor of the taint that Voldemort has tried to force into the very foundations. And if days pass where he doesn't talk to any living being, because his mother has retreated into the salon she shared with his father, then that is ok. She is there and that is enough for him.

He works diligently, through each room. He scrubs the floors, strips the old wallpapers and reapplies new ones in bright colours. Still the Manor still looks depressing. More often than not Draco feels like giving up, but then he trudges on. He searches for old furniture that exudes the elegance that he remembers from his childhood. He finds some sort of solace hiding in these memories of happier times, but he knows that he won't be able to hide within the past forever.

Mostly he wonders how his life would have been different if he had made different choices. Choices that would make it easier to find peaceful sleep.

* * *

“Mipsy would like to serve tea in the parlour.”

Draco startles badly at the pop of house-elf Apparition. How long has he been alone then? After a short breakfast of tea he had wandered off to fix the old suite that Greyback had inhabited. Only to realise, once he got to it, that the stink of the beast had settled too deeply into the furniture. Even the Scouring Charms did not do the job properly. He has been Vanishing layer upon layer of grime for most of the morning and feels a bone-deep exhaustion. 

“Mistress Narcissa insists that you will be joining her.”

He doesn’t quite understand what his mother is hinting at, but a cold feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. Still, there is no sense in denying her the company.

When he enters the parlour, he takes a proper look at his mum. She looks tired, washed out even, and his heart aches even more. He should have taken better care of her, instead he has left her to her own devices hiding within the Manor.

“Mum, you look tired. Are you not getting enough sleep?” He kisses her cheeks and feels her skin soft and parchment-like. When has she grown so old? She is not yet fifty, no age for a witch, but there are lines on her face.

“My darling.” She reaches her hand out and grasps his own. Calloused fingers and cracked fingernails, a sign of the labour he is undertaking daily. She looks at his hand and sighs. “This is no life for us.”

He fails to understand what she implies. Should they just give up? The Manor as it stands is the only place where they can move about freely. Diagon Alley won’t give them a happy welcome, as he realised when trying to go shopping for some needed potions ingredients.

Draco more than understands the feelings of the wizarding world. If he is not able to forgive himself, how can he expect others to forgive, let alone forget what he has done. Thankfully there is owl-order for most things. And others he can grow in the Greenhouses.

His mother coughs delicately pulling him out of his thoughts. Getting caught in his own head is something he is becoming familiar with. Life in the cell was not that different than his life in the Manor now.

“You have not heard a word of what I said, did you?” His mother smiles softly.

“No, I am sorry Mother.”

“I just said, that I will leave England to travel for a while and would very much like it if you come with me.” She looks at him expectantly, as if there is not even a question that he will agree wholeheartedly. But Draco feels himself freeze, he can’t say why but he knows two things, deep within his soul and with astonishing clarity.

One is that his mother will wither and die within the year if he does the selfish thing and begs her to reconsider.

The other is that he has to stay in England if he wants to have a chance to leave the war behind. If he leaves he will carry the burden with him and probably succumb to depression before long. He swallows, desperately trying to find the words to tell his mother that he can’t go with her, and still urging her to go on her travels as he knows she must.

Some of his internal struggle must show on his face, because she studies him intently for a long time before sighing.

“It won’t let you go then.” He has no clue what she means by it, but Narcissa stands up and kisses his forehead.

“I am sorry, I have to leave. But please know that I love you very much, and will come back as soon as possible.”

“Mum,” he chokes out, knowing that she probably feels the same internal conflict that he experiences. Where does the certainty come from that she needs to leave? Is this some kind of familial magic? He wouldn’t be surprised. She turns around for the last time and he hears the words as if a stranger speaks them, but knowing them to be the utter truth

“I love you, Mum.”

The door closes and he is alone. The undrunk tea still on the table, he stares into nothingness for a long time, until Mipsy comes back and gently steers him from the room to bed. He sleeps without recollection of nightmares for the first time in ages.

* * *

Life is not so different following his mother's departure. He still works through the rooms and interacts mostly with the house-elves. The Manor begins very slowly to resemble its former appearance when one day Mipsy announces that Pansy waits for him in the salon and would like to speak with him.

He realises that a month has passed already only when he takes a look outside and sees that the leaves have fallen and the land is touched with the first spikes of frost.

“Good afternoon, Pansy!” He strolls into the salon and takes a look at his childhood friend. 

She looks different, all edged and razor sharp lines painted on her face, as if trying to be prepared for any sort of attack. His open smile catches her off guard and she smiles back, almost involuntary. It softens the edges of her face and he finds his friend underneath the heavy armour of makeup.

“I had to make sure you aren’t dead in the Manor. You know, your corpse rotting away here.” Her way of greeting is acerbic, but it tells him more about her mental state than anyone outside could know.

“Well as you can see, I am alive and well and not rotting away yet.” He turns in front of her, and knows that she will find him lacking. Cleaning by magic only goes so far and he has been working on the worse grime by hand. It soothes his irate thoughts, but leaves him in a right state outside. His robes are stained and torn in places. He could have changed them before coming to see her, but he was on the other side of the building and didn’t want to keep her waiting longer than needed. She wouldn’t believe his facade anyway. So let her look at him, hair all over the place, probably worse than Potter’s without the grooming charms, hands calloused and nails cracked from cleaning by hand. And he hasn’t even started on the outside, which will leave his hands probably in an even worse state.

“You look like a house-elf!”

She is truly horrified, but he finds himself laughing. It must border on histrionics, because he finds himself drenched with water from her wand before long.

“Are you done?” she bites out

“Oh Pansy.” He wipes water from his eyes. Knowing that he must look like a drowned rodent, but finding that he doesn’t care because a tiny smile lurks in the corner of her mouth. “I am sorry I scared you.”

He dries himself with a quick spell, and sobers, indicating for her to sit on the sofa.

“Mipsy?” Calling her for tea, he smiles at his house-elf. “Can you bring us tea please?”

“Yes Master Draco. Mispy will be right back,” she confirms and pops away to the kitchen before he can say thank you.

When she comes back she carries an assortment of sandwiches and cakes on a platter as well as steaming tea.

“Thank you,” he thanks her and she beams at him. He pours the tea for Pansy and hands her the cup, only to find her staring at him thoughtfully.

“What, do I have something on my face?” He thought that the _Aguamenti_ must have washed the dirt from his face, but maybe something is still stuck.

“No.” She is quiet for a while, studying him, sipping at her tea before she blurts out, “You have changed.”

“No I haven’t, I am still the same arsehole I used to be.” Draco snorts. 

“I hate to break it to you, darling, but you have never been a real arsehole. You played at being one fairly well, but the fact that you risked your life to protect your family speaks a different language. Don’t forget that I have known you since we were five and you accidentally hexed a Muggle boy for bullying me.”

“That is hardly a testimony of good character,” Draco objects. “Look Pansy, I know you mean well, but I have to face the truth. For most of the people that count I have not made a good impression. I am okay with working in the Manor, but going out is not high on my agenda.”

He sees that she wants to argue with him, but decides to let it rest for the moment.

“So what are your plans then? Surely you will not just stick around here? I mean going back for your NEWTs is probably not an option.”

“Definitely not, even if they open the castle back up.”

“But you have to have an idea on what you want to do with your future?”

“Hm. Well, right now I am happy with fixing the Manor. The walls don’t throw accusations at me.” At least he doesn’t think so. Sometimes there are whispers in his ears, but with walls that old, it is to be expected that some echo of spells cast long ago might linger.

“So magical architecture or restoration?” Pansy looks at him speculatively.

“Who knows how far I will get with the spells in the library.” He strives for nonchalance, but she has triggered an interest in him. Maybe he can make something of his abilities that goes beyond keeping the Manor in repair then?

“Well I will try and take the Owl Course for NEWTs that the Ministry is offering. Rumour has it that Potter is never going back to Hogwarts either.”

“And how would you know that? Is he starting with the Aurors then?” Draco finds himself asking. What does he care what Potter does in his future? He expects that he will never see the other boy again, for what are they but two boys trying to make a life in a world that has been torn apart by war.

“No, he has disappeared for the time being.” Pansy shrugs.

They continue to chat long into the afternoon. But when she leaves he hears the silence even louder than before.

Sleep eludes him for quite a long time that night.

* * *

While he keeps working on the last ruined rooms of the Manor he has more than enough time to think on his many mistakes. Going back to Hogwarts, even if he had entertained the thought briefly seems just seems pointless.

Waiting for a year to finish his NEWTs? No, He should do the sensible thing and apply for the Owl Course. At least once he has passed those, he might be able to find a way to actually do something productive for society. 

Maybe even travel a bit, even though he feels it in his bones that he can’t leave the Manor just yet. He has to stay and fix something. Although he doesn’t quite know what it is. Knowing his ancestors, they cursed the place so that at least one Malfoy has to remain within its walls to take care of it. 

He wonders if he will ever have a child to carry this tradition on. Who would want to live with him? Disgraced, moody, tired most of the time, and prone to talk to the house-elves and ancestors, as if they could explain to him where he actually went wrong.

This morning is particularly bad. Even getting up requires effort, but he has promised Mipsy to finish the library soon, and there is still a lot of work to be done. The fire in his room is already going by the time he manages to drag his body out of bed, and there is a chill in his bones that he can’t seem to shake. Even worse, he presumes, is that he can hear the walls whisper to him, calling for him. Well, he would do whatever they want if they could be clearer in their instructions. As it is the soft pleading is driving him spare. No clear words, but the tone is cajoling, as if he should know what they want from him.

“Well I have no clue what you are trying to tell me! Some instruction would be nice!” he says out loud as if the Manor could understand him.

“All you had to do is ask.” A melodious voice replies to his request.

Okay—that is it. He is losing his final marbles, he has been alone for too long and now…

“Young Malfoy!” The voice is back again and he turns in search for the source, only to find a portrait peering at him from a gilded frame that he polished only yesterday. The picture usually shows a landscape, but now a woman looks at him.

“Are you talking to me?” He steps closer.

“Well, there is no one else around is there?” she quips.

“No, I am alone.” And that sums the entire problem up, quite neatly.

“Ah, I see. You are but you don’t want to be. Well, follow the song and you will find something to help you.”

“The song? You mean to tell me that the voices inside my head are a song?” 

“First of all, the voices are not in your head, but in your blood. And second, they felt like a song to me, when I heard it. No idea what it is like for you. I have been told it can be quite different for each one of us. But you will hear it louder in some parts of the Manor, and where you hear it loudest, you will find something to help you with your deepest desire.”

With that cryptic bit of advice, she waves him goodbye and steps out of the frame.

He wonders if his imagination is now really running so wild. However he has nothing to lose. Nobody's there to witness this crazy hunt for what he doesn’t know, and Mipsy just looks at him fondly whenever he has done something particularly stupid in his mind, like talking out loud to the portraits, or repairing a child's bed, just big enough for a house-elf to sleep in comfortably. 

The pleading and whispering is getting louder though, the farther he walks into the direction of the unused east wing. The longer he focuses, the clearer the voices become, sounding like a child begging for attention and he feels the pleas tug at his heartstrings. Who knows if these voices are manifestations of former Malfoys? Of spectres caught within these walls? He is so focused on the pleas of not being left alone that he walks past the door at first.

Only a couple steps further down the hallway he realises the whispering is growing softer and he backtracks. The door conceals an old nursery as far as he knows. So will he find some toy there to keep him company? Opening the door he is greeted with dust motes dancing in the wintry sunlight. The room looks deserted, and sad. 

The whispers sound excited, as his eyes rove over the dusty surfaces. The nursery doesn’t contain much, which makes it impossible to say which Malfoy slept here as a baby. The old fashioned furniture tells him that at least a century must have passed since the room was in use. The whispers don’t indicate what he is looking for and he can’t figure it out. Standing in that room for what feels like hours and still no clue, he picks toys up, lonely rattles and knickknacks, but the whispers don’t stop.

Just when he decides that he has probably lost it, he hears a baby laugh. The sound is so clear that he steps towards the cradle, situated in the corner. When he bends over the bassinet the whispers stop abruptly. 

“You wanted me to find this?” he asks no one in particular, as he pulls a small box out of the bassinet. It is dusty, but when he wipes it of he finds it intricately painted, with tiny snitches and brooms. The light blue surface shimmers softly under his hand and he turns the box over, under the bottom he sees a coat of arms. It definitely is not the Malfoy Crest, but it looks familiar. As he keeps turning the box, the lid slips open and a soft lullaby fills the room. Draco feels his eyes grow moist. The melody touches his heart, and he wishes that he could talk about the emotions this evokes within himself, with anyone really. But he is alone and for the first time in months he longs for someone to just be there for him.

He forcibly pulls himself together, focusing on the words of the painting. _The Manor will give you something to help you find happiness._

Now he just has to figure out how an old music box will help him in that endeavour.


	2. Chapter 2

As much as Draco hates to admit it, he is slowly losing it. The music box is suspiciously unhelpful, not a single hint has escaped the old piece ever since he has taken it to his own room. So much for the Manor giving him something like a map to happiness, more like a map towards madness. When he opens it, he keeps hearing the hauntingly beautiful lullaby though and his heart longs for someone to share this music with.

How is he supposed to solve the riddle that his ancestral home has dumped on him? The stacks of books that he has searched through and discarded, keeps growing by the day. The Malfoys have amassed so many heirlooms and magical artefacts, but not many are harmless. It helps that with each identified dangerous piece, that he sends of towards the ministry for destruction he feels a bit lighter. He might not find happiness anytime soon, but he can make sure that the Malfoy Estate does not contain cursed artefacts that will attack unsuspecting visitors. 

Today doesn’t look promising either. He has been poring over an ancient tome, when Mipsy pops in with another cup of tea. She frowns at him, when putting the cup down carefully.

“Master Draco is working too hard! You be needing a break”

“Thank you, Mipsy.” He smiles tiredly at her, appreciating the concern. It feels good to have someone care for him, even if it is his house-elf. He takes a sip of tea and laughs incredulously.

“Did you put Firewhisky in my tea?”

“No that would have been me! You need a distraction from what Pansy told me!” Draco shoots from his seat at the sight of his oldest friend, standing in the door of the library.

“Oh my god! Are you really here, or am I hallucinating?” He wants to step up and hug his friend, but his painful hesitation must show on his face, because Blaise steps up to him and hugs him before he can convince himself that he is just imagining this. 

“Well that settles it, you are real.” Draco gets up after having the breath hugged out of him.

“Yes, I am real. And you my friend look like shit!” Blaise’s eyes rove over his body. Draco is painfully aware of the shadows underneath his eyes, and his overall tired appearance.

“Well, when there are only books and house-elves for company, one tends to take less stock in one’s appearance.” He motions for Blaise to follow him into the parlour. “You’ll have a cup of tea with me? Maybe stay for dinner?” He hates how hopeful he sounds, but his is too tired for Slytherin tactics.

“Yes, old friend, I’ll have tea and dinner with you, and then we we’ll drink a bottle of wine and you’ll tell me all about the stuff that is taking you away from the friends that you still have. Pansy has been harping at me for the longest time, but I figured you would send me an owl sooner or later.” The soft accusation in friend's voice makes him wince.

“Blaise—I…”

“No it’s okay. I think I get it, but you owe me a bottle of the good wine!”

Draco breathes a little easier. Blaise making jokes about the famous Malfoy wine cellars has been a constant, it means he has almost been forgiven.

Talking well through the afternoon about Blaise's plans for the future, well until dinner time.

They are eating delicious soup, when Blaise approaches the topic again.

“So, care to tell me why you are reading through the entire section on heirlooms and cursed artefacts? My contacts in the Ministry are all abuzz about your reformation and the constant stream of artefacts that are being sent in for decontamination. Has the Black Madness finally gotten to you?”

Draco all but spits his soup out. "What? You have contacts in the ministry?” 

“Well I did tell you that I am trying to work towards the International Communications Service, so of course I have contacts. And let me tell you, people are torn between thinking you are a saint and definitely up to something.”

“Of course they would think the worst of me.” He sounds bitter.

“No, they withhold judgement for now. But you are giving them reason for confusion.”

“I am just trying to figure out what this one artefact could mean.” And then it just spills from his lips, he talks about his loneliness, and the Manor sending him to find the music box.

Blaise listens intently and only when he has talked himself tired he stretches the hand out.

“May I see the box? Maybe I can help, you know, a fresh pair of eyes?”

“I'm not certain there is anything you can do but sure, why not.” Draco is tired of trying to figure this out by himself.

So he takes his friend back towards his room, where the box sits next to his bed. Sometimes he wonders if the Manor is mocking him a little, because when he opens the box he can hear the lullaby, but nothing more. It could in all honesty just be a music box made to soothe babies.

He picks it up and hands it to Blaise, who handles it with care. He turns the box over in his hands and focuses on the coat of arms, painted on the underside.

“That is the Black Family Crest, isn’t it?” Blaise raises his eyebrow. Of course Draco has recognised the painted symbol but the books have told him nothing about this specific piece. The only magical property seems to be that once he opens the box the symbol pulses softly, as if a beating heart is in the box. It has creeped him out at first, but by now he has gotten used to the gentle pulsing.

“Maybe you are overthinking this,” Blaise says softly, after holding it for the longest time.

“What do you mean?”

“Well maybe, you should start looking into the family, and less into the magical properties of this thing.” He hands the box back. “At least that is what I would do.”

Trust Blaise to be _pragmatic_ about this. Draco feels lighter, at the prospect of a new venue to pursue.

***

He has been working himself to the bones, tracing the Black family tree, for a connection to the music box but has made no real progress. That leaves only one avenue that can be pursued. The only living remainders are his mother, his aunt Andromeda and the baby born to her daughter and Remus Lupin. He resigns himself to writing a letter to his mother first, seeing as he has no idea on how to approach Andromeda for help.

In time he will come to blame his immersion into the Black family and the unwelcome reminder of Aunt Bella for the nightmares that plague him that night. Flashes to the scene in the living room, when he was asked if he would babysit the cubs, and the fight with Potter losing his wand to him, losing Vince in the inferno...

As he wakes drenched in cold sweat he becomes aware of the subtle sounds of the lullaby ringing through his bedroom. Gripping his wand, to cast a shaky _Lumos_ , he struggles to breathe. His heart races, as he stares up to the ceiling, counting each tiny fissure. 

He is wondering if the nightmares will ever stop, if he can ever shake of the past and move forward. Lord knows he has tried to make amends with sending the artefacts in to be destroyed, but deep down inside he knows that he won’t be happy until he has come up with something that allows himself to give back to the wizarding community. 

His thoughts stray back to his nightmare. It is a familiar one, where he is caught in the Room of Requirement, burning to ashes, only this time he didn’t burn, no something was different. This time it was more of a memory, Potter had come for him and saved him from the flames. Draco flushes at the thought of gripping his saviour so tightly, pressing his face to the slender back.

Potter had looked at him in that nightmare, and said, “How often do I have to rescue you? Grow up and do something with your life!” And then he pointed to the old potions classroom: “This is where you belong!”

Draco knows that his subconsciousness is trying to show him something. He has no desire to go back to Hogwarts, facing the justified slurs and hostility against his family name would definitely be too much, but the memory of working with potions is growing more prominent. Maybe he should start to look into the correspondence NEWTS and apply himself to that field of study. Even if he can’t work as a Healer, he might be able to work on potions for Healers, or he can pursue the idea about working in magical restoration, as he has talked through with Pansy.

The lullaby still rings through the room and he turns towards the nightstand. The crest is glowing stronger, and he talks to it as if it is sentient.

“I will ask Mother about you.”

The music box falls silent at that, and Draco drifts back to sleep.

***

Writing the letter to his mother is easier than he anticipated. The Manor has no problem with him asking for help so it seems. And so he continues sending out owl after owl, trying to figure out how to approach his goal in doing good with his life. The positive confirmation for his application to the remote NEWTs gives him a spring to his step and he buries himself in books that might help him make progress. 

He is buried in the texts when his mother's owl comes back a few days later. The transport from Europe to England must have exhausted the poor bird, and he feeds it some treats before gently untying the scroll from the outstretched foot. As he reads through the missive, he feels confirmed in his own conclusions. 

_My dearest Son,_

_I am pleased that you reach out to me for guidance and I hope that what little I can tell you will help on your path to happiness._

_You said that the box playing gives you flashes of the Black Family Coat of Arms. Since it is not I who is predestined to guide you on the path to happiness, I can only assume that the last living family member of the old Family will be involved._

_As you well know my sister Andromeda is still alive and cares for the child of her deceased daughter. I would suggest that you reach out to her. Andromeda has always been the kindest out of us three and while I scoffed at her for being weak when I was a young woman, I know by now how much strength that simple kindness demands of a person._

_If you write her a letter, she, so I believe, will give you a chance to prove that you are not only of Malfoy Blood, but that some of her family remains within you as well._

_I wish you all the best and hope to read more from you soon!_

_With all my love_

_your Mother_

It seems that he has another letter to write. One that is so much harder than the one he has send out during the last few weeks


	3. Chapter 3

It’s easy for her to say that reaching out to Andromeda would be the best thing. But how does one go about approaching a relative that one has never seen before? Her name had not even been spoken before the war.

Draco pushes the letter ahead of himself until Samhain has long passed, and Yule is in the air when he finally sits down and writes a short missive. It is painfully formal, but he doesn’t dare address her in an overly-familiar way, afraid of overstepping the boundaries.

_Dear Mrs Tonks,_

_I am sorry to intrude into your life, but I have recently begun to try and make amends for the role that my family has played. My mother speaks highly of your kindness, and I hope to have a chance in being allowed to introduce myself to you, and your side of the family._

_I have found something in the Manor that indicates the old house of Black, although I assure you it is nothing malicious. Should you find it in your heart to grant me an audience, I will gladly swear a Wizarding Oath that I mean no harm and bear no ill will towards you and yours. Let this be an attempt to bridge the gap that has divided our family for so long._

_I look forward to hearing from you in regards to my proposal._

_Kind regards,_

_Draco Malfoy_

He sends it off, knowing that rewriting the piece again and again will turn this more painful. So now nothing more is to be done. He can only wait and hope.

Thankfully, she doesn’t make him suffer for long. In the afternoon he receives a reply. Draco stares at the letter for a long time, wondering how he has deserved such a kind welcome.

_Dear Nephew,_

_You will forgive me the familial address, but I have lost far too much family to dither with formality. It has taken you much to compose your missive to me, and I am not cruel enough to leave you wondering about your welcome._

_I would be glad to meet with you, for a cup of tea or two, and see how we can connect._

_The wards on my home ensure that you cannot enter, should you have a malicious intent, so I can forego the Wizarding Oath you so kindly offered. Please let me know if you are available this Friday?_

_Looking forward to meeting you,_

_Aunt Andromeda_

Despite the blatant warning in her missive, he feels a lump in his throat at the chance she is offering him. He immediately sends a confirmation back with her owl.

He has a tea invitation with his aunt. The music box on his desk hums softly as if approving.

***

Andromeda’s cottage looks nothing like he has imagined it. The house set back in a cozy garden, overgrown with rambling roses, hydrangeas and summer lilac. Of course none of the bushes are in bloom and the garden looks a little bedraggled, but he can imagine a hint of the beauty it must be in summer, when everything is alive. He feels a pang of longing, maybe if everything works out he will be welcome here and get to see the spectacle it surely will be. Right now, to be honest, it does look quite a bit chaotic, Draco thinks as he stands in front of the picket fence that is in desperate need of a new coat of paint. 

The window blinds are painted in dark blue, which is also chipped in places and the roof is overgrown with lichen and moss. The pathway to the house is made up of light gravel but weeds have overtaken a good portion of it. Does Andromeda not own a house-elf for help? Surely a former Black sister would have lived in more splendor? Wouldn’t she?

Despite the apparent neglect the cottage exudes a warm air, calling to him, as if it wants him to walk up the path and knock on the door.

There is nothing for it. He has Andromeda's letter in his pocket, and his fist closes tightly around it. The music box in his pocket seems to vibrate softly urging him on to move forward and he swallows, throat suddenly tight. What if she doesn’t like him? What if she can’t overlook that he is the son of Lucius Malfoy. And that her own family has disowned her for not marrying the man they had chosen for her?

He makes a distressed sound, turning to leave, before he can make an utter fool out of himself, but the decision is taken from him when the door opens without his knocking and a voice calls out.

“Won’t you come inside? It must be dreadfully cold.” The voice is warm and melodious, and he hears his mother in her tones. Turning towards her, preparing for the inevitable frown as she realises just how much he looks like his father, he is not prepared for a warm smile and a welcoming hand reaching out for him.

“Hello Nephew, I have the kettle on. Or I can make hot chocolate. But please come inside.”

He is drawn to her like a moth to flame and follows her inside. The cottage is filled with midwinter light and he takes in the warm sitting room with a fireplace and sofa covered entirely in throw rugs. The bookshelves are filled to overflowing and he sees a lovely back garden hidden behind french doors, with a chair perfect for curling up with a book and forgetting the time. 

She has already set out the tea with cream and sugar but looks inquisitively at him. “You are okay with tea? Or would you prefer that hot chocolate I mentioned?” 

Suddenly it dawns on him that his aunt is as nervous about his visit as he himself feels.

“No, tea is perfectly fine!” He stands there not knowing what to do with himself, well aware of the strange figure he must make in the cozy cottage, dressed in his finest robes. He wishes he could tug on the collar but that would be so undignified.

“Sit down, won’t you? And please if it makes you more comfortable, take off the outer robes. I remember how choked I always felt when I had to wear the formal ones.” She sinks down on the sofa and pats the space next to her. Her smile is warm and a bit weary, as if he is a throwback to a time that she remembers with dread and fondness in equal measures.

Relieved, he opens the collar and takes off the robe, leaving him in a button down and neatly pressed trousers. As he sits down, he takes care not to jostle the music box too much, lest it open too early. 

“Thank you for having me Aunt Andromeda,” he finally addresses her, as formal as he thinks is appropriate. As he glances at her fully, he is a bit surprised how much she resembles Bellatrix. Well, the Bellatrix that she must have been before madness and Azkaban robbed her of her beauty. But then she smiles again and he sees his mother's smile in the slant of her mouth and the subtle twinkle in her blue eyes. His shoulders relax a fraction at that thought.

“I am glad you are here, Draco. Apart from Teddy, you and your Mother are all that is left of my family. I am glad you reached out.” She takes a sip of tea and looks straight at him. “I admit, with caring for a baby and mourning, I didn’t have the strength to reach out first. I kept hoping that Narcissa would…”

He blurts his thoughts out before they are fully formed. “I believe the Manor wanted her gone, she left so abruptly for Europe. But she told me all about you, and that you would be kind.”

“She did?” Andromeda looks at him, and he knows she would see through a lie should he be stupid enough to attempt one. But he is not lying and so he can affirm her hope.

“She did. I wrote to her about something that I found in the Manor, and she told me to come to you, that you would not hold my heritage against me. I think she fears I might go insane all alone.”

“Hm.” She seems happy enough with that explanation and sips her tea. They sit in silence for a while, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. His thoughts are drifting, so that he doesn’t hear her first question. She touches his shoulder gently and he realises with mortification that she must have tried to get his attention for quite some time.

“I am so sorry! You must think me terribly rude. What did you ask me?” His face feels aflame and she laughs freely.

“Tell me a bit about you, what have you done with yourself in the last few months? How long has Narcissa been on the continent?”

She seems genuinely interested and so he begins to talk.

***

He has no idea how long he has been talking and Andromeda keeps pouring the tea, so the afternoon passes in comfort, until a baby begins to fuss somewhere nearby.

“Teddy is awake” Andromeda rises, and motions for him to follow her. “He is your cousin, so I would like for you to meet him.”

“I have no idea how to handle babies!” 

“Don’t worry. I will be right next to you.” She is quite firm as she pulls him along, his robe forgotten for the time being on the sofa.

When they enter the small nursery, the sound has increased to an all-out wail, indicating that Teddy is not at all happy with being left to his own devices now that he is awake. Andromeda steps up to the bed and pulls Teddy to her chest, holding him securely.

“Now, what seems to be the problem, darling?” She talks to the baby as if he is a grown person. “Should we change your nappy?” She turns towards Draco and he takes a look at his cousin for the first time. He looks like a normal baby, with a shock of brown hair and murky blue eyes which have not settled on their final colour yet.

“Hello Teddy.” He waves softly and before he knows it Andromeda presses the child into his arms. “Hold him for a second.” She doesn’t seem concerned that he could drop the child and he holds the baby, who glances up at him, as if not quite knowing what to make of the strange man that holds him. When his mouth draws into a moue of unhappiness, Draco hastily begins to bounce the child in his arms, hoping to distract him for a bit, before the all-out crying breaks out again.

“Hey, little man, none of that. I promise I won’t bite, and I won’t drop you.” He begins to move through the room a bit, just a few steps to calm the child, and miraculously it seems to work. The baby is still sceptical, but doesn’t squirm as much as focuses on his voice instead. “I swear this is as difficult for me as for you. I never had siblings…” Draco talks softly as he stands close to the window. It overlooks the backyard, and once again he sees a lot of work to be done in the spring. 

“Ok, all set. You can give him to me now.” Andromeda steps up to him. “Unless you want to change his nappy?” She grins deviously and he feels all colour leave his face. 

“Relax, nephew. For now you can either look, or leave the room. I am not sure what Teddy has left in his nappy.” 

Draco makes a hasty retreat from the room, settling onto the sofa once more. He is willing to try, but changing a nappy? Who knows how he could mess this up? Somehow he cannot imagine his mother changing a nappy in her lifetime, had the house-elves taken care of him then? 

It takes a while, but then Andromeda comes back with Teddy on her hip.

“He is eight months now?” Draco asks before he has really thought about it. As far as he knows Teddy has been born close to the final battle, and he feels stupid for reminding his aunt of the loss she experienced.

“Yes he is.” She smiles, but there is grief underlying the brave smile and he wishes that he had been born to a family where hugs were normal, but all he can get out is, “I am so sorry.” 

“Oh Draco.” She looks at his face, registering the anguish in his eyes and simply drops the baby onto his lap, pulling him into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault! My daughter and husband knew what risks they were taking, and you are so brave in owing up to your mistakes. I am very glad that you are here, and I would love to get to know you better. I hope you won’t deny us this chance? I meant what I wrote. I have lost so much of my family, I would be a fool not to take you in.”

Draco thinks of his mother, alone on the continent and he reaches out again. “Maybe, only if you want of course, my mother…”

“Do you think she would talk to me?” 

“She would love to.” Draco knows that he is speaking the truth. His mother had never mentioned Andromeda before he reached out, but her letter has told him enough.

Together they sit with Teddy until he begins to fuss, and even after feeding and changing him again, no amount of bouncing can calm him down. Draco remembers what has urged him to come to his aunt in the first place. He hands the baby towards his aunt, and pulls the little music box from his pocket. As soon as he enlarges it again, the box pops open. The lullaby begins to play and Teddy blinks sleepily. He stretches his arms towards Draco and Andromeda chuckles.   
“It looks like you have the honour of putting him to bed.” Draco blinks at her. “Don’t worry, he is easy when it comes to bedtime. Just stay with him until he sleeps.”

The music box floats with them as Draco puts his baby cousin into the bassinette. The lullaby gentles and drifts off when Teddy falls asleep. Draco sits with him, listening to the soft breathing for a long time.

Going home is difficult, but Andromeda insists that he comes back soon.

“I just found you, and I would love to get to know you better.”

So he promises to be back in two days.

In the morning he finds that he has slept deeply that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Soon after his first visit Draco settles into a comfortable routine. He gets up and has tea with his house-elves in the mornings, then he picks the books he wants to work with for the day and heads over to Andromeda. He initially wanted to give her space and a chance to get used to the idea of seeing him more often slowly, but he hadn’t counted on the music box.

Teddy had grown attached to the sound quickly and by now refuses to go to sleep when the box doesn’t play. Which, to add to its oddities, it only does when Draco is around. They made that discovery after a week.

The day before he had tucked his cousin in and had tea with Andy, as she insists on being called, he had planned to catch up on schoolwork and therefore had to excuse himself early. He had been apologetic but Andy said she understood. After dinner he had settled into the library, only to be roused by Mipsy, who had led him to the foyer.

Andromeda stood in the parlour with a screaming Teddy in her arms. Her hair was frizzed and she was pacing with him trying to calm him down.

“What’s wrong? Is he ill? Do we need to call a Healer?” The questions just fell from his lips. 

Teddy stretched his arms out towards Draco, clearly pleading to be taken by him, as soon as he heard Draco’s voice. Andy had handed the baby over and there he stood, with a hiccuping child pressed to his chest.

A quiet hiccuping child.

He must have looked a sight, completely bewildered and in awe, as she just looked at him and began to laugh. When she had laughed herself out, she had just put her arms up and sighed.

“Well, nephew. Please put Teddy to bed, I tried everything today, but he wouldn’t have it.”

“The music didn’t help?” 

“I haven’t been able to get it to play anything. Trust me this was my last resort. I didn’t want to dose him with a Calming Draught, or let him cry himself to sleep. You have been the person to put him to bed for the last few days. It seems he has gotten used to you.”

Draco feels warmth expanding in his chest at the trust that she puts in him. Of course she would have been able to settle Teddy sooner or later, but she trusted him to do the right thing.

“Of course I’ll come.” He had kissed Teddy’s head and turned to Mipsy. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

When he headed into Teddy’s room, the lullaby had started to play out of its own accord. Teddy had been fast asleep before he had even put him into the bassinette.

Andromeda had just looked at him, and that had been the end of it. By now he spends almost the entirety of his time in Andromeda’s cottage, working on the estate and his correspondence course. Playing with Teddy when he is awake and putting him to bed when he is getting tired.

He has even mastered the art of a nappy-change and manages to feed Teddy with the soft mush that he still prefers on most days, giving Andromeda a chance to eat as well.

He is for all accounts as close to happy as he has been in ages.

Of course things can’t remain like this for long.

***

He is later than usual, and because he is so rushed, he doesn’t notice the cloak thrown haphazardly over the cloak stand. He just moves into the kitchen to make himself another cup of tea before he has to start on the reports from the investments that Mipsy has dropped onto his lap this morning. It is a sign that he has left these things for as long as humanly possible and has to take care of them today.

Andy is probably outside with Teddy, because he can’t hear them in the house. He hums under his breath and brews his tea, but as he looks at the sink he sees two cups in it. Andy never has company, so who had that second cup? Should he not have come by today? He wracks his brain but cannot remember for the life of him if Andy has mentioned an appointment.

“Andy?” he calls out cautiously.

“In the living room!” he hears her calling out, and follows through without thinking much about it. It is only when he steps into the room, and sees who sits with Andy that he stops abruptly, clutching the cup between his hands.

There sitting on the sofa he usually occupies is Harry Potter. His brain freezes entirely, and he just stands there for long moments, with this stupid cup in his hands, staring as if he has seen a ghost. He can’t bring himself to say anything, his mouth just won’t form words.

“Hello Malfoy,” Potter breaks the silence after painful moments have passed. Still his words fail him, it is not as if he is silent otherwise, but with Potter he has always had the tendency to put his foot in. Of course most of the times he wanted to antagonise the other boy, but right now he wishes for invisibility. Knowing that this is not an option he just nods towards Andy and Potter and turns away, towards the desk where he puts his paperwork down and starts to work silently. 

“Draco.” Suddenly a hand settles on his shoulder, making him startle, scratching all over the parchment. Nothing but a Vanishing Charm will help with the inky mess. 

He turns towards the intruder and looks into Andy’s face. The line between her brows tells him that she is baffled by his behaviour.

“Is everything alright?” Her voice is gentle, and he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Of course, I just didn’t want to intrude. So I’ll just be here and work. I promise not to start any trouble in your home.” He tries to convey his sincerity and his voice is coloured by his desperate hope that she will believe him.

“But Draco why would I think you would cause trouble?” She frowns.

“It is just, Harry Potter is in your house…” He trails off not sure how to say what he should. “He and I have history…”

“Oh.” She nods “Well Harry is Teddy’s godfather and just wanted to see how he is doing.”

Draco loses what little colour he had, and stands abruptly. “I understand. Well, I’ll take my leave for today.” He doesn’t give her the chance to say anything more, and Apparates away before he can cause even more of a disruption for his aunt. He sequesters himself into the library fully intending to work for the next few hours, but is interrupted almost immediately by Mipsy.

“Master Draco, you is having visitors. They is being adamant, you is coming to see them.” 

“Who is visiting us?” He enquires while getting up. Maybe Blaise or Pansy have decided to drop by for a quick visit. He can indulge them for a bit. Mipsy looks uncomfortable but answers promptly, “Mister Harry Potter and Mrs Tonks being waiting in the parlour. Mister Potter be looking angry.” 

Surely Potter was not offended about Draco removing himself from his aunt’s house? What else was he to do? As a godfather he played an important role in the baby’s life and surely wasn’t happy about Draco spending much time with him. But there is nothing that he can do, other than entering the parlour. He tries to hide his shaking hands behind his back, and keeps his back ramrod straight. But Andromeda doesn’t even give him a chance to collect his wits before striding up to him.

“Why did you just leave? Have I given you any indication that you are not welcome in my home when I have guests? You are family, you are always welcome!”

He struggles to retain his cool, but feels that he owes her an attempt of honesty.

“I appreciate it, I really do, but I really did not want to cause you distress.”

Potter snorts at that, but Draco just plows on focusing on Andy. 

“I know that the role of a godfather is important, and I didn’t want to intrude. I would have hoped that you had let me know about the visit before, then I would have come by later.”

Andy smiles at that but it is a sad one. “Are you unable to spend any time with Harry in my house?” 

Potter throws him a challenging look. “Yeah, are you?”

“You promised to be nice!” Andromeda turns her glower to Potter and he shrinks back. Draco can’t help the small chuckle that escapes his lips before he has reined himself in.

“I simply felt that with Harry—” And the name on his lips does feels so strange, and seeing Potter’s face hearing it is no easier. “—being present, I would not intrude. He hasn’t seen Teddy in weeks, and we have never gotten along well.” He swallows the bile in his throat and simply continues “I am aware that most of that is my own fault. I simply did not want to walk into an altercation and I didn’t want to hear that I am corrupting an innocent baby with my evil Slytherin ways.” He turns away.

“Merlin, help me.” Potter explosively breathes out. “No, I need to say this, Andromeda.” He moves so that he is standing right in front of Draco and there is no way to move away without making it obvious that he is looking for an escape.

“I don’t mind you spending time with Teddy. Hell, if I had a problem with you being out and about, do you think I would have tried so hard to get you spared from Azkaban? Yes, you have been a right twat in school—but I haven’t exactly been trying to understand you either.” He scratches his head, mussing the black hair. “I know that we have had a bad history, but I don’t want you to flee when I am in Andromeda's house. I know that you are really good with Teddy and I would like to get to know that side of you.”

Potter thrusts his hand out in a mockery of their meeting on the train. Draco stares at it for a moment and Potter fidgets, before he can withdraw Draco reaches out, and clasps the offered hand. It is dry and strong.

Potter grins. “I like to think that I can still tell the right sort for myself.”

His mouth lifts in a smile. And Andy looks at them with exasperated fondness. “Can we head back now? Teddy is still sleeping.”

“You did not leave him alone?” Draco whirls around, horrified, only to see his cousin curled onto the sofa in the corner with Mipsy sitting close.

He breathes a bit easier and something must show on his face because Potter pipes up again, “Nobody who looks at a sleeping baby like this can be entirely evil.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he tries to scoff but the fond smile on Andy’s face tells him that he has no chance to wriggle out of this. So he gives in and heads back to the cottage with Andy and Harry. He takes the work back with him, since he really has to finish going through the reports. When Harry puts a fresh cup of tea down on the desk next to his elbow he thanks him with a smile.

He doesn’t think too hard about the situation. That can be done later.

***

They slip into a comfortable routine following the initial meeting. Draco continues to do most of his work at Andromeda’s desk and plays with Teddy in the afternoons.

Yule approaching means that the entire cottage smells of pine and mince pies. Andy showed him how to make them. Draco grins at the fun that they had making the little confectioneries, having fun working side by side with her.

And Harry drops by every other day. They have established an easy rapport. 

Over the first couple of afternoons spent together Draco notices that Harry is quieter than he ever was in school. He doesn’t talk as much as he used to. Draco would never admit it out loud, but he can’t stand seeing Harry so subdued, the spark in Harry’s eyes completely missing.

He doesn’t quite know what to do about it though. And he can’t explain where his desire to see Harry Potter succeed at life again has come from.

At the same time Andromeda is also too observant by far and he has caught her more than once studying Harry and himself with a slight frown, as if they are a puzzle that needs to be worked out. The fact that he feels his face heat every time she catches him looking at Harry doesn’t help.

He is halfway convinced to drag Harry into doing the correspondence course with him, when Andy comes up with a request that leaves Draco uneasy.

“I would like for you to visit Diagon Alley with Teddy. The Yule decorations are up and I remember being there as a child. It was so much more magical than any other time.” When he wants to protest, she continues, “Also Harry has never seen Diagon Alley all festive. I think it would be a wonderful idea for the two of you to spend time with Teddy and each other without an old witch being in the way.”

Draco sighs. It won’t do to tell her that she had him with the mention that Harry never saw the magical Yule decorations. Also she probably needs to do some shopping for gifts as well. So he will take Teddy out of her hair for a bit and show Harry the magic that is Yule in the wizarding world.

Of course it will help that Harry will be going with him, if just so he can avoid being spit on.

So Draco gives in to Andromeda’s plea and writes Harry a quick letter, informing him about the request. Of course Harry agrees easily to the suggestion. They set up to meet for the next day Andromeda’s.

Prepared for the outing Draco stands with Teddy strapped to his chest and waits for Harry.

When Harry finally arrives in the living room and sees Draco with the baby secured tightly in the sling his eyes widen and he blushes a little. 

Draco is confused. “Would you have wanted to carry him?”

Harry coughs. “Oh no, I think I have never seen you carry him like this. It looks nice.” He holds out his arm, and Draco steps up to him, Teddy secure between them as they Apparate to Diagon Alley. Draco is a bit dizzy once the squeezing sensation retreats and feels Harry’s hand steadying him at the small of his back. This action causes him to blush again, but Draco resolves not to read anything into it.

“It looks quiet,” Harry states with wonder. “It always feels hectic. The only time I have seen it this quiet was...” he trails of and Draco winces, of course the summer when the Dark Lord had come back, the alley must have looked horrible then. He can’t allow Harry to follow that train of thought though and talks without thinking.

“Diagon is always quiet around this time of year. You have been here when school supplies are needed. That is a pretty busy time. But not only is today a workday, we are here after the rush of people wanting to get to work and before the lunch crowd is due. And of course the time when the Biggest Wanker Of All Times was at large cannot be counted!” Draco doesn’t say that he had hoped to attract the least amount of attention this way, but the soft smile that plays upon Harry’s lips shows that his thoughts might have been figured out. 

Maybe he is becoming too transparent for Harry.

“So where are we heading first?” Harry grins like a little boy. To have that grin directed at himself does funny things to Draco’s insides. He pushes the thoughts aside quite firmly and directs Harry to Flourish and Blotts first. After all they too have some shopping to do.

Harry picks a book for Hermione and some stationery for Arthur. At Draco’s raised eyebrows he explains that Arthur has been working with George instead of the Ministry and now is responsible for the supply contracts. Business stationery that never runs out is a very thoughtful gift, Draco has to concede. Molly will receive an book on Celestina Warbeck. 

Draco browses a little before settling on a book for Teddy. If his own eyes linger on Potions in magical restoration, and healing, Harry doesn’t comment on it.

Harry drags him to Twilfitt and Tattings where Draco buys an elegant shawl for Andromeda and Harry complements it with a hat and gloves. 

As Harry’s hands linger on the supple black leather for a bit longer than needed, Draco makes an impulsive decision and adds the gloves to the bill with a small gesture. Thank Merlin his money is still good enough so the clerk does as he indicates without commenting.

As all of his shopping is deducted directly from the vault and the parcels will be delivered via owl he has managed to by Harry a Yule gift right under his nose. The thought makes him smile.

Teddy is awake now and gurgles happily at seeing all of the lights and garlands strung up. Draco feels a bit hungry but is reluctant to address the issue, until his stomach protests quite noisily.

“Are you hungry?” Harry turns towards him with concern and when he is just about to say that it is not that bad, his stomach emits another growl. He blushes at that, but Harry just grins.

“Come on then, we’ll have an early lunch.” They enter one of the small cafes that have sprung up on Diagon shortly after Voldemort’s defeat, which Draco points out to Harry.

However as soon as the server takes one look at him, she scowls. “We don’t serve the likes of you here!” she all but spits out. Draco feels the colour drain from his face. He has almost forgotten that many Wizards would not be happy to see him out and about. As he ducks and wants to exit the cafe without drawing further attention to himself, he is stopped by Harry’s hand on his back.

“Don’t hide,” he whispers into his ear. The warm breath touches his earlobe, making his stomach do funny things that have nothing to do with hunger.

“Hm, well, too bad then.” He straightens and lets the hood fall back that he had pulled over his distinctive hair. “And you had so recommended the taste of their quiches.” Draco sees the eyes of the server widen as she realises who has entered with him.

“Oh Mr Potter, of course I didn’t mean you.” She all but falls over herself to make sure that he is not leaving.

“But you meant my companion, who has been acquitted and found innocent of all charges. I am only here because he recommended your cafe specifically. I am really not sure why I should eat here. You know I find bigotry has a detrimental effect on my appetite.” Harry frowns, deeply unhappy.

She pales further and turns towards Draco. “I apologize, sir,” she bites out. The old Draco would have revelled in throwing the apology right back at her, but he finds that he is tired of making things worse, and just takes it as it is.

“So could we eat here? The food is exquisite.” He knows because Andromeda has picked up a slice or two when she is not feeling like cooking. Additionally he is really hungry and would rather not know if other shops would react the same way. Harry relaxes minutely and puts his hand to the small of his back. 

“If you are sure, Draco.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, and Draco smiles at his antics.

“Yes, yes! Will you please sit? Of course the order is on the house.” She places them both a little farther back so that they are hidden from the entire room, and Draco wonders if it is because she really does not want the cafe associated with him or if she is trying to give them a bit privacy. 

“You are aware that she thinks that we are fucking?” He states it bluntly, when the server has disappeared to gather their order.

“What?” Harry blushes up to the roots of his hair. “Why would she think that!” 

Draco grins. “You mean other than you having your hand on my back, and glowering fiercely at her for treating me like she did?” He shrugs. “It isn’t as if I didn’t expect this to be how I would be treated here. People have a hard time forgiving, and seeing me walk free is not easy for many.”

“Still it doesn’t mean they get to treat you like this!” Harry refuses to answer the issue of his hand being protectively on Draco’s body. 

Draco smiles and takes Teddy out of the sling. Squirming he indicates the desire to be put down. Harry shakes his head fondly and waves his wand, setting a ward around them to keep Teddy close. The baby happily explores the floor of the cafe, and Draco is grateful for the seclusion because Teddy has grown restless and he anticipated a temper tantrum.

The server brings the food, looking at Teddy and Draco is surprised to see a small smile play around her lips. But she moves away quickly and they are eating in companionable silence.

The food is fantastic and Harry eats with joy. Draco smiles, keeping half an eye on Teddy while taking bites of quiche. 

“You were right, the food is amazing. It would have been a shame to destroy their reputation.”

“Careful, you sound like a Slytherin. And as I said, it is not unjustified. It will take time before I can walk without being glowered at. As long as I am not being spit upon I am content.”

“I did not fight a fucking war to have one bigotry replaced by another!”

Draco looks up at the anger in Harry’s voice. His lips are pressed together so tightly that they are a white line in his face and his eyes shine with a desperate fever. He continues his rant before Draco can even get a thought out.

“I will not frequent stores that refuse you service. Or anybody else who has been acquitted. I have to believe that our jurisdiction is worth something, and nobody on the street should put their decisions in question! Well, unless they are blatantly wrong. Which they were not in your case. Merlin help me, your trial is on public record! And they just think they can judge. I wonder what they would have done, faced with impossible choices!”

He breathes heavily. Teddy crawls to Harry and pulls on his trouser leg. Harry picks the baby up and hides his face in the soft hair. His shoulders shake, and he obviously is trying hard to keep it together.

“Why do I have the feeling this is no longer only about me?” Draco voices carefully.

“I don’t know.” Harry looks old, so much older than he is in years. But then he continues to talk. “When I learned that they had imprisoned my godfather without a trial…”

“Sirius?” Draco states the obvious, just to say something.

“Yes Sirius. I think I lost faith in the system for a while. And now they are pushing me towards joining the Auror training in March, I just don’t know...“

“You don’t want to be an Auror, well then don’t become an Auror.” Draco just shakes his head. “But I would prefer to have this conversation somewhere more private. Teddy is tired and should be put down for a nap. Let’s head back and then we can talk over a cup of tea.

Harry nods quietly and hands Teddy back. He straps the kid back into the sling and Harry pays for their food. He makes sure to stay close to Draco when they exit the cafe, and they Apparate back to Andromeda’s cottage. Draco moves towards the bedroom after toeing off his shoes. Having his arms full of eight-month-old child made taking them off properly impossible, but he has learned to make do.

“Are you coming?” he calls over his shoulder.

“You want me to put Teddy to bed?” Harry asks, surprise evident in his voice.

“Yeah I’ll just put him down and you can sit with him. I’ll put the kettle on.” Draco won’t say that he thinks that Harry needs some time with his godson to calm down. It is clear that the Auror thing weighs heavily on him. Teddy’s cute little sounds always eases Draco’s whirling thoughts though.

“Yes, but turn on the lullaby? It won’t start for me,” Harry calls him back after a few moments. Draco steps into the room and touches the box. The soft tune wafts through the room and both baby and grown up man begin to relax immediately.

Draco feels his heart expand at the scene and withdraws carefully into the kitchen.

***

He doesn’t need to wait long, before Harry gently sits down and picks his cup. They sip in silence and Harry sighs contently.

“Perfect. If someone would have told me five years ago, that the only person who gets my tea just right is Draco Malfoy, I think I would have gotten them admitted.”

“Oh, I thought Andy makes it just like I do.”

“No she always puts too much milk in it.” Harry indicates his cup. “But this is perfect. Thank you.”

Draco wonders how to approach the issue that they had been talking about in Diagon, but he hesitates. What if Harry thinks he is overstepping the boundaries of their acquaintance? He is torn from his thoughts when Harry begins to talk suddenly.

“So what are your plans for the future? I mean it is not as if you have to work for money, well apart from managing that estate which seems to be a job for itself.”

He looks intently at Draco and he finds it surprisingly easy to talk about his hopes and dreams.

“I am currently taking the correspondence course for my NEWTs, and then I definitely want to work in potions development. Although I admit I have no idea if I want to go more into the direction of healing or magical restoration. I want to make things better and beautiful again and both avenues offer me this.”

Harry looks at him thoughtfully, and Draco begins to squirm under the intensity of the green eyes.

“You know, I never thought I could be truly envious of you, Draco. But I really envy you at the moment,” he finally says and Draco feels his eyebrows climbing up to his hairline.

“You envy me? Whatever for? I am scarred, alone and miserable…” The words are out before he has thought them through.

“Are you really?” Harry asks quietly.

“Well, the scarred part is true.” Draco admits. He hasn’t felt miserable and alone ever since Andy has all but forced him to move in and Harry had become decent company as well.

“Well we all are scarred in one way or another.” Harry reaches out and grasps his forearm, absently touching the ugly scars that Greyback left on him.

“That is surprisingly deep, coming from you,” Draco quips, trying desperately to defuse the strange atmosphere between them.

“But I am right, and it makes you uncomfortable.” It is delivered bluntly and Harry holds on.

“Yes.” Draco tries to look away, but his eyes are drawn to the point where Harry’s warm hand covers his pale forearm. The golden skin a stark contrast to his own milky colour.

“What I don’t understand is: why do you think it defines you? These are a sign that you survived a war. That you fought and lived. They don’t make you worth less. If anything in my eyes they make you worth more.”

“Right.” Draco looks up and there is something lurking in Harry’s eyes that he can’t identify. If he is honest with himself he doesn’t want to either. His breath catches in his throat, and he has to look away. It would be wishful thinking that Harry has any interest in him, so he should be happy with this comfortable almost friendship they have managed to build.

“You know this was supposed to be about you!" He tries to gather his racing thoughts and addresses Harry’s evasion. “We wanted to talk about your plans for the future, and I would like to know why on earth you feel like you HAVE to become an Auror when you so clearly don’t want to. I admit I also thought you would do it, but that was only because I didn’t know you then.”

Harry lets his head fall back onto the sofa, and stares at the ceiling for a long time. Draco has to subtly reheat his tea and when Harry takes a sip, the pleased smile on his face again does strange things to his stomach.

“You know, I envy you, because you have a plan in life. You know where you are headed, and even though you are not one hundred percent sure yet what your expertise will be, the direction is clear. For me, everyone is pushing at me, and I feel like I am letting them down in saying no.”

“Your hero complex knows no bounds does it?” Draco snorts. “You are letting nobody down, by not becoming an Auror. I daresay you are not even suited to being one.”

“How would you know?” 

“Aurors are following protocol, there are tons of rules and bureaucracy to be filled. If you want to make a career out of being an Auror you will spent eighty percent of the time pushing paper and trying to find a logical connection between seemingly unconnected pieces. Then ten percent planning the raids and only about ten percent actually rushing in wands drawn.” Draco observes Harry closely as he states this and the rapid paleness in the other boy's face tells him all that he needs to know. “With your track record I reckon they would try to make a weapon out of you, a Hit Wizard probably. Do you want that?” 

“No.” Harry sounds absolutely horrified.

“So don’t allow them to own you. Why do you have to rush this anyways? Maybe you could take the NEWTs first and then, you have your entire life ahead of you trying to figure out what to do.”

Draco puts his own head back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Harry is a warm solid presence next to him and they are silent for a long time.

“How would I even apply for the correspondence course?” Harry speaks softly as if not wanting to destroy the peaceful air that surrounds them.

“I’ll help you,” Draco replies. “It is the least I can do.”

And that is the last thing they say until Andy returns and Teddy calls for them to play with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Yule is a quiet and relaxing affair. They both celebrate it with Andromeda, with an opulent meal and burning the Yule Log. Draco places his gift for Harry onto the table, smiling at the obvious joy Harry takes in the fine gloves made from soft leather, spelled to keep his fingers warm even in the coldest temperatures. Harry gifts him with one of the books that he had eyed in Flourish and Blotts and Draco can’t keep the pleased smile from his face. Teddy plays with the toys they both have bestowed on him and Andy enjoys the shawl he picked out as much as the gifts Harry picked. Harry spends Christmas with the Weasleys and returns afterwards to Andromeda’s cottage.

He is quiet even quieter than usual, but Draco refrains from asking. He knows by now that prodding will only cause Harry to withdraw further. He will talk when he wants to.

They are both working on the correspondence course. Harry is taking it a bit slower, but there is no rush for either of them. Draco is grateful for the knowledge that he can repeat the tests should he fail them, and Harry has already decided to use the second slot. At least he has told Draco this much. It means he won’t take the NEWTs before January next year. More important, this way he buys himself time to decide what he really wants to do in life.

***

It is one of the quiet afternoons when everything goes to pieces.

Andromeda has just gone to put Teddy to bed. Draco works on a potions essay and Harry is reading through a book on transfiguration. She remains absent for much longer than usual, but they don’t think much about it. Until Teddy begins to cry like a banshee and nothing happens.

Looking at each other and shooting out of their respective seats they run towards the nursery. Draco can only think, _‘please, please, please be alright Andy!’_

When they step in the room, they see her lying on the carpet, so still. Draco would panic, if not for Harry who takes over without a thought. “You pick up Teddy and go outside, I am checking Andy.”

Draco complies without thinking about it. He hears a barrage of spells and wonders absently how Harry knows this much about healing. Teddy is still crying, but at least he has calmed from the outright screaming.

“I am scared too.” Draco looks at the small boy in his arms. “But your grandma will be alright. I am sure of it!” He refuses to think about the alternative. He has no family left and if Andy is fatally ill, who will allow him to take care of the little boy in his arms?

His own breath comes faster, but he tries to remain calm for the child in his arms. It seems an eternity before Harry steps out, only telling him shortly that she is stable and that he is Flooing St Mungo’s to pick her up. He continues to walk about with Teddy, keeping a stream of mindless chatter flowing until the toddler has fallen asleep again on his shoulder. He sits down in one of the armchairs and waits for Harry to return.

He does a good half hour later and two medi-wizards accompany him. They don’t look at him, instead talking in hushed tones about “heart rate accelerated, blood pressure too high and magical exhaustion.” 

They conjure a stretcher and hold out their wands. But the level is different and not the Knight Bus but a white car appears in front of the cottage. 

“We’ll take her in for observation. At least for the night. Please drop by tomorrow morning Mr Potter. We will let you know what to expect then.”

Draco feels all but invisible, but if he is honest this does suits him. Harry accompanies the stretcher out and Draco watches as he stands there looking lost, for a long time. He calls him back in and makes a hot chocolate for the two of them, all the while holding onto Teddy as if he were a lifeline.

As they settle in front of the fire, Draco can’t contain the question any longer.

“How did you know what to do?” 

“Huh?” Harry looks up from his cup of chocolate

“With Andy. I just panicked, but you knew how to stabilise her…” Draco clarifies.

“I guess being on my own with Ron and Hermione for so long, and basically being a sitting duck, I wanted to be able to heal as much as I could and picked up quite a lot from reading. I never again wanted to feel as helpless as I did when you were bleeding out under my hands.” Harry grimaces. “I never apologised for casting that curse.”

“I was about to cast an Unforgivable. Harry, you defended yourself.” Draco feels the truth in his bones. “I knew that I would probably die at the end of that year, and I was so fucking tired of it all. I guess part of me hoped you would just kill me and be done with it. I didn’t even think what it would do to you. So if anybody owes an apology it would be me.”

Harry looks at him for a long time, but then a warm smile creeps over his face. “Well we both should have talked to somebody, that’s for sure. And I accept your apology if you accept mine.”

“I can do that. Because I know you didn’t mean to wound me fatally.” Draco looks at Teddy. “When do you think Andy will be back? I have no idea how long they will allow me to take care of him.”

“I have no idea.” Harry sounds exhausted. “Her heart rate was all over the place and her blood pressure was sky high. I hope they tell us tomorrow. They might not like it but you are next of kin and they have to let you know what is going on. For now I suggest we both stay here and keep things as normal for Teddy as they can be.”

Draco nods, before thinking too hard about it. He calls Mipsy and informs her that he will be staying the night, which results in a bit of embarrassment when she pops right back in with his grey silk sleepwear and a fresh set of clothes declaring that she will set up the room for him.

Harry grins at that, but admits that he has to pop out for a change of clothes as well. He is gone in a second but comes back within minutes, holding a bag with takeaway in his hand.

“I figured neither of us would be up for cooking tonight. So I popped into the Indian place that keeps me fed. I hope you like butter chicken and biryani, I usually eat very spicy and picked something milder for you.”

Draco feels his heart expand again. That Harry thought about his comfort as well, tells him a lot about the other man. He gives him a grateful smile. 

“That sounds fantastic! I could kiss you.”  
The words are out before he has a chance to think them through, and he could hit himself. Why must he flirt with Harry, now the other man will surely be uncomfortable.

Harry blushes violently, but doesn’t comment. He silently hands him the dish with his food, and plops down on the couch. They eat in silence, and Draco is grateful for the reprieve.

When it comes to going to bed, they realise that there is only one guestroom. Draco stares at the bed with consternation, but Harry is pragmatic. With one wave of his wand, the large bed splits into two twin beds. 

“You are okay with the same room?” 

“Yes, if Teddy calls for you or me, it would be better to sleep where we usually do. Or can you imagine sleeping in Andy’s bed?” Harry shudders and Draco laughs.

“Well I don’t snore, if you do I will just hex you silent.” But he says it with a smile and Harry laughs with him.

***

The night passes without incident. Draco finds Harry’s presence oddly calming. As if he knows that he isn’t alone in this even when the situation should give him nightmares.

He wakes in the middle of the night, sure that he has heard Teddy call out, but once in the room he only hears the soft regular breathing and sees the soft pulsing light that the music box emits. He heads back to bed and snuggles back under the warm blanket, lulled to sleep by Harry’s regular breathing.

The next morning, there is no other word for it, is downright domestic. When Draco comes awake he hears Teddy babble in his own language and Harry reply with laughter. As he steps into the kitchen, intent on having at least a cup of tea before they will have to head to St Mungo’s he is greeted by the sight of Harry cooking a full breakfast and Teddy happily mashing a banana with his hands. 

“Well getting that out of his hair will be a challenge,” he states.

“Good morning to you too! I will clean him up later, don’t worry. But I didn’t want to wake you and this was the easiest way to keep him busy and almost quiet. Tea is over there.” Harry has a fond smile on his face that once again does funny things to Draco’s insides and he ducks his head.

“Good morning,” he mumbles and grabs his tea, only to find that it is perfect. A happy sigh escapes him.

“I wonder if you’ll ever smile at me like this,” Harry grins.

“Hm, keep making the tea like this, and I just might.” Draco smiles at Harry just to see the effect.

“I’ll try,” Harry mumbles and blushes again. 

“You’ll make your wife very happy one day.” Draco says it just to remind himself that Harry is off limits and that he should not entertain some silly notion of playing house with Harry Potter and a baby. Even though the thought makes his insides squirm with something akin to happiness and desire.

“Why, because everyone thinks I’ll end up with my childhood sweetheart, pop out three kids and name them after dead people?” Harry snorts. “I think I’ll disappoint them quite a bit then. Now sit down and eat. We do need to head to the hospital soon.”

He puts the plate down in front of Draco and digs in with gusto. Draco eats as well but the blunt statement rings inside of his head. He would love to ask more, but that it might break the easy friendship they have established through the last few weeks. So he files it away for further inspection.

They plan to get dressed after breakfast, and Teddy giggles about Harry trying to get the last traces of banana out of the blond strands. Draco takes mercy on him and puts Teddy into the shower, deciding spontaneously to just wash himself at the same time. Well, washing Teddy is the easy thing, but then he notices that he has not entirely thought this through. Getting Teddy dressed while he is not done himself is not an option and they are pretty late already. So despite his embarrassment he calls for Harry.

“Harry! Can you take Teddy? I need to clean myself too!” He is sure his face is going to explode when Harry opens the bathroom door.

“Of course, I can…” Draco knows exactly when Harry realises that he is looking at a naked body.

He doesn’t dare look at him. But then Harry chuckles. “We did have communal showers, you remember? I have seen naked men before. You can look up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to flash you.” Draco holds Teddy out, and Harry takes the happy little boy.

Harry mumbles something that sounds suspiciously akin to, “Shame, that.”

Draco refuses to react and pulls the shower curtain protectively around himself. “I’ll hurry, thank you for dressing him.”

“No problem.” Harry closes the door and Draco is left alone with his thoughts.

When he just looked up, the look on Harry’s face was one that Draco is not unfamiliar with. It was blatant appreciation, mixed with a healthy amount of desire. But acting on this would surely end in disaster, so Draco pushes his own desire into the back of his mind. Being friends with Harry is one thing, taking care of Teddy with him another, but dating him would be an entirely different league.

He dries himself and dresses quickly. The soft grey jumper goes with the black trousers. That Mipsy brought these clothes shows that she checked the weather forecast. The weather is overcast and he picks the heavy cloak up that goes well with his dragonhide boots. He really needs to reward Mipsy for being so thoughtful.

“Are you coming?” Harry calls for him, and when he comes out of the room, the other man looks at him again with admiration. Draco can’t help but appreciate the casual style that Harry shows. Dressed in dark blue jeans and a thick cable knit jumper he exudes confidence.

“You look nice,” he offers. 

“Thank you, I can return that compliment,” Harry replies easily. Teddy is bouncing on his hip and Draco feels a wave of longing rise. Ruthlessly he squashes it down and squares his shoulders.

“So St Mungo’s?” He tries for brusque, but obviously doesn’t fool Harry. The man just nods, wraps his other arm around Draco and apparates them to the entrance of the hospital.

“A little warning would have been nice.” Draco breathes deeply, only to catch a full nose of Harry’s cologne. The woody scent makes Draco’s head spin. And he drifts subconsciously closer to the other man. Harry coughs a little and nudges him softly. 

“Come on let’s go.” Harry gives him a kind smile, and steers him towards the entrance. They approach the welcome witch and she sends them to the ward of Magical Maladies.

Teddy is subdued as if he senses that the people in this ward are not well. Draco keeps an eye on the small boy, and Harry has him between their bodies. They both are protective of the little one.

Andy looks frail and much older than her years. The Healer making his rounds looks up as they enter the room.

“Ah, Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy, I had hoped you would drop by.”

“How is she?” Draco whispers, instinctively trying not to wake Andromeda.

“Please, let’s step into my office. We won’t disturb the patient there.” The Healer is professional and kind. Draco is relieved not to encounter hostility here.

“Of course.” He gently touches Harry’s arm and indicates that they should follow the Healer, Harry comes without hesitation.

“Thank you, gentlemen, please have a seat.” The Healer who goes by the name of Montrose, smiles at them reassuringly. “Let me tell you first that we expect for Mrs Tonks to make a full recovery.”

“That is a relief.” Harry smiles happily.

Healer Montrose turns serious. “Even though we expect a full recovery, it will take several weeks with a strict regimen of potions, to achieve this. We are lucky that Mrs Tonks has had several health issues that her magic has not healed but merely suppressed until her magical core was so weakened that she collapsed."

“So she has to remain in the hospital?” Draco feels faint.

“We would severely recommend it. If she leaves too early she might suffer a relapse, and her magical core might not recover.”

“She could end up a Squib?” Harry inquires.

“No Harry, she could end up dead.” Draco can’t sugar-coat what he has seen in the Healer's face.

Harry grasps his hand, and Draco can’t bring himself to pull away. Instead he tries to provide stability, even though he himself feels shaken. Teddy reaches out for him as well and he holds the little boy close. He is just glad that the baby doesn’t understand what they are talking about.

“How long will she have to be here?” Harry addresses the most pressing issue.

“I can’t say an exact timeframe. But it will be at least three months. Then we have to see where she stands.” The Healer looks serious.

Harry turns towards Draco, as if seeking reassurance. “Do you think we can manage?”

Draco smiles wryly. “Well it is not as if we have much choice, right? Maybe Andy has an idea on who would take this little tyke?” As if Teddy knows that they are talking about him, he burrows even closer. “Although I think, she will just be happy if we take him on. I mean half of the time we are taking care of him already.”

Harry smiles hesitantly, “So you would be okay with us staying together in the cottage?”

Draco snorts, “It is more a question of you being alright with me always being there.”

Harry just takes his hand. If the Healer’s eyebrows twitch at the casual gesture, Draco can’t bring himself to pull away. Instead he holds on tightly.

“I will always be alright with you being around Teddy and Andy and of course myself.” Harry is so intent on reassuring him, he seems to forget that there is someone else in the room with him. How else would Draco explain that Harry is leaning towards him as if meaning to kiss him?

He jerks back, to spare Harry the embarrassment. Clearing his throat awkwardly he indicates the Healer still in the room with them. His cheeks are blazing and he just hopes that he has not made the entire situation worse.

Harry shrugs unconcerned but turns towards the Healer again. “Do you think she will wake up soon? I just want to tell her that Teddy is with me and Draco.”

“Let me check. She should be up for a bit before we can administer the next round of potions.” The Healer smiles at the two of them and exits the room.

Silence reigns, but Harry never once lets go of Draco’s hand.

After a couple minutes they are called into Andromeda’s room. She is indeed awake, and Draco takes her frail hand in his, glad to feel the feeble flutter of pulse underneath his fingertips.

“What are you doing Andy?” he chides gently, and she musters a tired smile for him.

“Didn’t know it was that bad,” she whispers. “Thought I was just tired.” 

“Well, now we are going to make sure that you will be alright.” Draco smiles at her. “We are taking care of Teddy, unless you want someone else to take him?”

“No!” She looks at the two of them. “Stay at the cottage please, take care of him together. You are so good for him.” She grips his hand tightly. “Promise me, you will take care of him!” 

“Of course Andy. We will be at the cottage and we will come visit, as often as we are allowed. Won’t we Harry?” He turns towards the other man only to find him basically plastered against his back.

“I promise Andy, I will take care of both of them. Don’t worry. And Draco will take care of me.”

Draco has no idea why Harry emphasises this fact but he sees the lines of worry ease in Andromeda’s face and thus doesn’t argue.

“You focus on getting better. We will manage!” Draco kisses her forehead and Harry says his farewell as well. Together with Teddy they head back to the cottage.

Teddy yawns when they get back and Draco decides to put him to bed immediately. Feeding him solids when he is that tired rarely shows much success. It is time for his afternoon nap and he can just give him a bottle before he drifts of. He calls out to Harry to fix the bottle please and heads towards the room. He is not even surprised when Harry arrives only minutes later and together they sit with Teddy as he drinks and the lullaby puts him slowly to sleep. He should be terrified, but for the first time in ages he is utterly at peace.

***

The first few days pass uneventfully. They play with Teddy, feed him and use the time that he naps for some much needed studying.

After a few weeks Teddy has a terrible night. Draco can’t calm the little boy, and when he takes him to bed with him he keeps reaching for Harry, only to reach back for Draco when Harry gives in and takes him. The red-faced baby crying desperately finally wears down on their resolve and Harry merges the bed again. When Teddy is settled between them, he finally falls silent. So they stand guard over the little boy, eventually falling asleep with him tucked securely between their bodies.

The bed remains merged after this. They don’t talk about it, but it seems too much effort to separate the beds again, especially since Teddy requires their comfort more and more often. Draco finds himself regularly wrapped around the baby with his arm securely tucked around Harry as well.

He does notice that he has even fewer nightmares since sharing the bed with Harry and Teddy, but he refuses to think about it.

Andromeda is still weak and the potions take a heavy toll on her system. Secretly Draco is terrified that she will not make it, but he doesn’t dare speak it out loud. But Harry looks drawn and tired and so he faces the Erumpent in the room.

“Do you ever think that she might not get through this?” His voice shakes slightly and he doesn’t try to mask his fear.

“All the time,” Harry whispers. “And I am terrified of the possibility. How would we raise Teddy? Would you stay with me, talk to him about his magical heritage? I mean no one taught me, I had to learn so much. I am sure I still don’t know half of the things that are normal to you.”

He looks tired, exhausted. Draco feels his heart reach out to the man that he has become and without thinking clearly about this, he pulls Harry into his arms, holding on, trying provide some sort of comfort. Harry is pliant in his arms, soaking up the warmth. Silence reigns for a while until Harry mumbles something into his shoulder.

“What was that?” Draco has to make sure he understood right.

“I said, I want to become a Healer. I want to make things whole again. I know that now.” Harry stares at him with these impossible green eyes. “I want to work with you, on healing people.”

“You know you can’t save them all? You will lose people to their illnesses.”

“I know, but at least then I can say that I gave my all to help them, I won’t be a weapon. And I have all of this supposed magical power. Casting healing spells is exhausting.” Harry smiles that slow, sweet smile that seems to be reserved for Teddy and him. “Also I know that you would be looking after me.”

It takes a while but Draco realises with a start that the soft thudding of his heart and the warmth that emanates between them, simply means one thing he is happy. The music box has done what he craved. It has given him happiness.

Of course that can’t last.

***

Andromeda is well on the way to recovery and the final exams are just weeks away.

Draco is putting Teddy down for the nap and has turned on the music for the little boy when shouting erupts in the living room. Later he won’t know why exactly he takes the box with him, only that it gives him a sense of comfort. When he steps into the living room, Ronald Weasley stands opposite of Harry, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“I thought you were taking the piss when you told me you would take your NEWTs next January. I thought you would come to your senses and join me in becoming an Auror, instead you are playing house with Malfoy!”

He is red faced and shouting. Draco feels himself freeze.

“I never said I wanted to be an Auror!” Harry states firmly. “It would not make me happy.”

“But living with Malfoy does?” Ron spits it out with so much disgust that Draco recoils.

“Not that it is any of your business, but being here in this house makes me happy!”

“You left my sister for a Death Eater wannabe!” Ron yells even louder.

Draco doesn’t know why he decides that this is the moment that he has to step in, because even though he sleeps in the same bed as Harry, nothing really has happened between them. “He didn’t leave her for me.”

Ron turns on him in a flash and before Draco can understand what is happening he feels his head snap from the punch and the box flies out of his hand, only to smash against the fireplace mantle. His ears are ringing and he tastes blood. The next punch will give him a severe concussion he is sure of it. But the punch never comes.

Ron breathes heavily as he looks down on him, but it is Harry who stands protectively over his fallen form, wand drawn and eyes blazing.

“I have had quite enough from you!” He says it quietly voice dripping venom. “Every time that things do not go your way, you renounce our friendship. You are insecure and jealous and spiteful, you take any excuse to doubt my loyalty and my love for your family. I am done. Get out of Andromeda’s house before I forget myself.”

“But Harry,” Ron sputters. “He must have you under a spell or something!” 

Harry snorts. “That is what you call it nowadays? I mean it, get out while I still let you. Be glad if Draco doesn’t charge you with assault. That would end your Auror career quite prematurely. I don’t want to see you until you have sorted yourself out!”

The hex is cast precisely at Weasley’s feet and sizzles with energy. Ron turns without another word and leaves through the fireplace.

Harry bends down towards him and checks him over with a few quick diagnostic spells.

“Ok, nothing bad apart from a black eye and a busted lip. Hold still.” 

Draco looks at Harry as he casts the healing spell. His magic feels like a caress and the bleeding stops immediately.

Something is niggling at the back of his mind though. It takes a few moments until he realises that it is too quiet in the living room. When he looks at the wrecked artefact which has guided him here, which has ensured his place in this cosy haven that Andromeda's house has become, he feels part of him breaking. His insides freeze as his eyes lock on the splinters of the music box. 

“He must have you under a spell!” the parting words that Weasley spit at Harry ring loudly in his mind, the box is broken and so is the spell that brought all of this together, all of his happiness was simply built upon a lie wasn’t it? It would be so typical of his ancestors to create an artefact that would enthral the people around him, to make him happy. His skin crawls with disgust at the thought that with each touch to the box he might have triggered the spell further. What kind of human does this make him?!

“Are you okay?” Harry’s voice tears him from the thoughts that race through his mind.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Draco tries to keep it together, he really does, but when Harry touches his cheek in concern, softly stroking the skin there he loses it. He needs to get away from Harry before the spell breaks, for it can’t have been something else that brought him here, and he can’t bear to see Harry look at him with disgust. How long does he have? Days? Hours, minutes? Harry frowns at him, already losing the tender smile that he has gifted him with during the last weeks and months, how much will he hate him when he realizes that he slept next to an unreformed criminal, someone who has taken his free will away, through an artefact. It probably won’t matter that he had no idea what the music box was, that he had just hoped to find happiness. What happiness could there be if Harry didn’t choose him freely, and he hadn’t. Otherwise he would have tried to get physical with him, wouldn’t he? 

The blood is rushing through his ears so loudly that he can’t think clearly. He just knows one thing. He needs to get away from here, before Harry hexes him. The excuse is feeble at best, but he only has one and it should be enough to buy him some time.

“I am sorry, I need to get back to the Manor for a bit,” he throws out without a thought or two. “You can manage with Teddy?” Without looking back he Summons his things and Apparates back to the empty Manor. He throws up the wards that won't let others pass and collapses onto the cold stone floor.

He has no idea how long he remains there, until the house-elves guide him towards the study and push tea into his cold hands. Having known what happiness was and losing it felt so much crueller than never having known it at all.

He stares into the empty fireplace for hours.


	6. Chapter 6

He plans on staying inside the Manor wards until the spell has worn off for sure and then see how Harry reacts to him. The first twenty-four hours do pass according to that plan. He catches up on work that he has left until the last minute, and tries to focus on his upcoming exams, but finds that his thoughts drift back to Teddy. He hopes that the little boy doesn’t suffer too many bad effects from the spell.  
How could he have been so naive? To think that any artefact from his ancestors would be harmless and simply for himself.

He is brooding like that for the next day, until Mipsy pops up suddenly.

“I is sorry, but Master Harry Potter is outside the wards. He was here yesterday too.”

“Send him away.” Draco feels old, much older than his 18 years. Mipsy pops away to do his bidding—but Harry would not be Harry if he just took no for an answer.

Every day Harry comes back, and Draco accepts defeat after three days. If the spell is still active he will hope that at least it has lessened enough for Harry to have a clearer mind. 

As he sees Harry pacing in the parlour he braces for a punch. What he is not prepared for is the abject misery on Harry’s face.

He clears his throat, and Harry whirls around to face him. Before he can get a word out Harry pounces at him.

“Why did you leave? Was it something I did?”

The green eyes are searching desperately for a sign on his face, and Draco wants so desperately for it to be just for him, but he can’t leave Harry in the dark. He will probably hate him, but then at least everything is out in the open.

“No Harry, it wasn’t something you did. I left because I realised that nothing was real. The artefact had you under a spell.”

“What are you talking about? There was no spell.” Harry frowns.

“I am sure that the artefact influenced you. Why else would you spend voluntarily time with me.” Draco turns away.

“You are not making any sense, Draco! But if it makes you feel better, go ahead cast the diagnostic spell and see for yourself that I am not under any spell.” Harry steps up to him, forces Draco to look directly at him. “Go on, cast the spell and then we can talk.”

Draco wants to leave the room, but then again he himself wants to know what spell Harry is under and so he casts.

“ _Revelio Magicae_.”

Draco stares at the result and cast again to make sure that he has not miscast. But the result remains the same.

“Are you happy now?” Harry’s voice is calm, accepting and loving.

“I am here because of you, not because I am under a spell. And I deserve the truth. I am not leaving until I know why you just got up and left.”

Draco begins to talk. He talks about the crushing loneliness of the Manor, of the voices that guided him towards the music box, about his search for the Black family and the meaning of the artefact, about feeling comfortable with Teddy and Harry, about being happy in that cottage even with the crushing amount of work that he has been pushing. Then he turns to talk about his feelings when Ron destroyed the artefact that only played for him.

“I realised that there was no reason for you to leave Ginevra. Ronald was right, something must be afoul. I wanted to give you a chance to get back to normal before confronting me.”

Harry just shakes his head. “Did it ever occur to you that I might have broken up with her, because she expected me to become an Auror, just like the rest of the world? That I realised that spending time with you, meant more to me than it should, if I declare myself entirely straight? That I wouldn’t sleep with you in one bed if I didn’t feel comfortable with it? Draco, I could throw off the _Imperius_ when I was in fourth year. Love spells fall under compulsion spells. They don’t work on me. So even if the artefact would have tried to give me to you, as you put it, it would not have worked. Instead there is a very easy reason that made me stay with you.”

Draco swallows, but Harry can’t be stopped.

“The very simple reason that made me spend time with you, is that I found myself in love with you. I didn’t plan on falling in love, hell I didn’t even think I could love like this, not you at least. And now here we are and I find myself turning towards you, instinctively when you enter the room, because you are my emotional compass. I am attuned to you in a way that I have never experienced before. Do you really believe that your right to be in Teddy's life is attached to some magical artefact? No matter how beautiful that music is, no matter how much it might mean to Teddy. What means so much more is that you are there! Always! You are not a memory; you are living breathing proof that he is loved! That little boy loves you so much! And it has nothing to do with magic and everything with you! You infuriating, wonderful man!"

Draco stands still as if struck by lightning. Harry breathes heavily and his eyes flash.

"He loves me?"

"Oh for fucks sake!" Harry clenches his fists. "Please tell me you are not really this dense! Why do you think I am here? Because Teddy keeps looking at me as if asking what I have done so that you don't tuck him in anymore. Even if I don't mean anything to you, please come back for Teddy's sake."

"You miss me too?" Draco can’t believe that this is his own voice. He never sounds so raspy and insecure.  
Harry steps up into his personal space and hauls him even closer. "I have just told you, and I will gladly repeat myself. I love you. I don't know how much clearer I have to make myself. I can’t sleep when you are not in the same bed as I am, I can’t concentrate on my studies and honestly the house doesn’t feel like a home without you in it. I really think you misunderstood the message of that music box. It didn’t enchant me, that was all your own doing."

"That speech was quite something, but you could have just kissed me?" Draco quips and wraps his arms around Harry.

Instead of a verbal answer Harry presses his lips to Draco's and even though he would later deny it, Draco moans softly at the sensations that assault him.

When Harry breaks away, due to oxygen issues, he still holds him tightly.

“I will never let go, unless you are asking me to. What you don’t get is that you make me as happy as being with Teddy makes you.”

“Where is he?” Draco asks finally.

“Molly is at home. She is taking care of him tonight.” Harry smiles mischievously “She said I should not come back until I sorted my issues out with you, and that she doesn’t expect me home tonight.”

“What? She is okay with you being with me?” Draco is completely baffled. 

Harry kisses him softly. “She sees that you make me happy. You make my soul sing, no matter how corny that sounds, and I waited so patiently for you to touch me, but I would be happy with just lying in bed with you and hearing you breathe evenly.“

Draco feels warmth expand in his chest, and instead of arguing further he guides Harry to his bedroom. He wants this Manor to contain happy memories as well.

“I have no idea what I am doing, but I hope we can figure this out together.” Falling back onto the bed and pulling Harry on top of him is a start, and he hopes to show Harry what feels good to him.

***

The next morning dawns and Draco wakes aching in places that he hadn’t known before. A soft tapping sound has roused him from his slumber, and the strong arm holding him in place tightens softly as to keep him in bed. He laughs gently as he removes himself from Harry’s embrace.

“Stay...” The other man—his lover—implores half-asleep.

“Be right back, there is an owl at the window.” He pads over and lets the bird in. 

“Hey girl, what is so important you have to wake me up?” Gently stroking her feathers he unties the scroll from her leg, before feeding her an owl treat and sending her off to the owlery. He crawls back under the covers only to find himself pulled firmly against Harry.

“Hm, you are so warm,” he sighs, morning breath be damned he leans over and kisses Harry.

“Something important?” Harry mumbles and indicates the scroll in his hand.

“No way but to read it to find out.” He doesn’t need to say that he is nervous, because he hasn’t heard much from his mother since she left for Europe. He unfolds the scroll and scans the contents of the letter. It is not very long but the contents leave him shaken.

Harry remains quiet for what seems like a long time. Draco curls into his chest, trying to make sense of the words he just read.

“It was all me?” he finally whispers.

Harry strokes his hair, as if to soothe him the way he would soothe Teddy when he has had a nightmare.

“I believe you knew deep inside that you needed help and guidance. And I am so glad that you sought Andy out, I would have needed a lot more courage to face up to what I know now. And there is no spell or potion I am under, I am simply well and truly in love with the person you have become. We are family, you, Teddy, Andy and I.”

Draco feels warm, as if Harry’s arms are the haven he needed.

He reads the letter again.

_My dear son,_

_Mipsy has contacted me, she is deeply distraught by your unhappiness and I will try and alleviate the pain and doubt that you still carry with you._

_The music box is no malicious artefact—it doesn’t enchant people around you in the sense that it enslaves their minds. What it does though—it guides you to the people that will bring you happiness and peace, and it will continue to give you a reason to return to them._

_So the fact that only you could get the music to play was due to your disbelief that they would love you, just for you. And before you ask why you found the music box..._

_This gift didn't just appear, because you required it. No, it appeared because your blood was calling out for it. The despair was so heavy that the very foundations have felt you calling out, and tried to alleviate your anguish._

_I am well aware that it sounds ominous, but the artefact was a way to heal you._

_It would have reverted to an ordinary music box, should you accept that Andromeda truly cares for you._

_That you returned to the Manor upon this unfortunate incident saddens me. You deserve so much love, and I hope that one day you will realise that you are worth more than my own motherly love._

_Before you ask—the Manor wards did encourage me to leave for a while, because you would have not gone in search of happiness should you have believed me lonely inside the walls._

_I will return shortly to reunite with my sister and can only pray that Harry has gotten through to you. He is a remarkable young man that cares deeply for you._

_With all my love,_

_your Mother_

As he drifts back to sleep he knows that not all is well by far, there is still the question of his future work and Harry who is still unsure about his own place in life. There is the issue of Ronald Weasley and his problem with their relationship, but all of these issues will find their resolution through time and communication.

Until then he needs some more rest, and Harry softly hums the melody of the music box—the melody of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment below. ♥
> 
> This story is part of HD Erised, an on-going anonymous fest. The author will be revealed January 7th.


End file.
